


Quiet Mornings

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Polyamorous Relationship, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: If Misha’s being honest, anywhere with Jensen would feel like home.





	Quiet Mornings

It’s become a part of Misha’s routine to have a cup of tea after his runs in the morning; that is when he  _ does _ go for runs in the morning. Today, waking up early came almost naturally, just barely before sunrise when the light streaming in through Jensen’s curtains is grey-blue. On mornings like these Misha almost feels like he’s trapped between two worlds, whenever he gets the chance, he loves being awake for the change to day. The way the sun cuts through the darkness, enveloping the entire world in bright light, and sound. It’s almost freeing in a way, and when he runs at sunrise, it feels like a little bit of himself is flying up into the sky with the sun, arching high as the world awakes around him. 

Despite wanting to go for a run and bask in the crispness of the fall air, Misha had been regretful about leaving the warmth of Jensen’s bed, Jensen’s arms wrapped around him, his nose buried in the curve of Misha’s neck. Jensen had grumbled in sleep when Misha disentangled them, slipping out from underneath the covers as smoothly as he could, fingertips lingering on the top of Jensen’s hand that followed his warmth, even in sleep. Misha had watched him for a moment before heading into the bathroom, the disgruntled look on his face, that slowly softened into contentment. The twitching of his fingers on the mattress, outstretched palm as he reached for Misha’s body. Jensen was back snoring half a minute later, the blue glow casting soft shadows on his cheeks. 

Misha knows Jensen will still be asleep by the time he gets back from his run, Jensen usually sleeps in as late as possible on morning shoots. Misha plans to climb back into bed with him again after his run and his shower, and let Jensen’s body warm him up. 

He gets through his run with ease, jogging an smooth four miles, clocking in just under an hour. Misha starts near downtown and heads towards the waterfront. He jogs along the Seawall, admiring the fog that drifts in from the mountains up north, the quietness of everything around him as the sun starts to break through the haze and light up the world. The trees are a myriad of colors now in mid-October, bright reds, oranges, and falling with snow-like softness from the trees in the slight breeze. They crunch under his shoes on the cobblestone and he can’t help but smile, breath puffing visibly out of his mouth as he runs. There’s other people out running too, can’t be helped in a city as large as this, but there’s a sort of companionship in it and Misha smiles at the people that pass by, puffing along just like him. 

He circles around and back towards Jensen’s condo, pausing by the front of the building to watch as the sun starts to make its ascent into the air, bright yellow as it beams, slowly starting the process of burning off the autumn fog. He snaps a picture because he can, and heads inside, back to the warmth and Jensen’s arms. 

As expected, Jensen is still asleep when he returns, arms curled around Misha’s pillow, mouth open, lips pressed against the pillowcase. Misha smiles at him, takes the time to watch the sunlight shine over Jensen’s face, the way his freckles stand out on his cheeks, the smooth curve of his mouth, and the relaxed slant of his shoulders. Misha almost doesn’t want to take a shower, but he knows Jensen will be annoyed if he wakes up to a sweaty Misha in his arms. 

Misha does take a shower, albeit the quickest shower of his life, but it’s a shower. He changes into one of Jensen’s t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that cling to his thighs. His hair is still damp when he climbs into bed, slipping under the covers as careful as possible so not to disturb Jensen. It doesn't work though, and Jensen immediately recognizes his presence, hands curling around Misha’s bicep the moment he lays down. Jensen clings to him, sighs deep and buries his nose in Misha’s collarbone. He’s still asleep and it’s incredibly endearing how Jensen just  _ knows.  _ Misha wraps his arms around Jensen’s waist and gently lays his head down on the pillow resting his chin on the top of Jensen’s head. 

Misha wakes up to his alarm an hour and a half later, awkwardly trying to move out of Jensen’s embrace to turn the thing off, which ends up being more difficult than anticipated as Jensen decides to tighten his grip on Misha’s arm, huffing in annoyance against his skin. Misha manages to breakaway briefly and curls back towards Jensen, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. 

“Jensen,” he whispers.

“Hmmm,” Jensen groans, mouth slack on Misha’s neck. 

“You actually do need to wake up soon, we have to film in two hours,” Misha says. He drags a lazy hand through the short strands of Jensen’s hair and grins when Jensen arches against him, snuggles closer. 

“Mmmmmm coffee first,” Jensen mumbles against Misha’s skin.

Misha laughs, dragging his hand from the nape of Jensen’s neck down his back, and around his waist. He squeezes him once, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek and carefully detangles his arms from around Jensen. 

Misha pads his way into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a loose fist. Jensen’s coffee pot and tea kettle are next to each other near the sink. Misha fills them both with water, and sifts through Jensen’s meager tea selection in one of the cabinets. To be fair, it’s only meager because all of the tea  _ is  _ Misha’s, stuff he’s brought over for mornings like these. He’d emptied out one of Jensen’s cabinets for his own tea, and received a text randomly one afternoon from Jensen asking where all the tea had come from. Misha had replied with the angel emoji, and said, “For when I stay over.”

Jensen had replied with the blush-y emoji and an, “Oh,” and that was that. 

The two machines bubble and steam in unison, creating a chorus of hissing that fills the kitchen. Misha’s water is done first and he pours the water over his jasmine pearl tea, holding the warm mug in his palms and leans his hip against the counter staring out at the view before him. Jensen’s condo is on one of the higher floors of the building, giving him an extravagant view of the entire city as it begins to shine under the sun. Misha feels at peace here, high above the world in one of the few places he calls home.Though, if Misha’s being honest, anywhere with Jensen would feel like home.

Jensen had convinced him,  _ not  _ that Misha had needed much convincing, to stay the night in Vancouver with him instead of driving back to Bellingham. They’d had a late shoot and a fairly early one the next morning and it had been awhile since Misha stayed with him. Due to the near constant cons and Jensen’s hectic filming schedule for season fourteen, Misha hadn’t gotten the chance to spend much alone time with him. 

This morning and last night had been much needed. 

Misha fills Jensen’s mug with two spoonfuls of creamer, swirls the liquid around with a spoon until it’s a dark tan, and heads back towards the bedroom, both mugs clutched in his hands. 

“Jensen,” Misha sing-songs once he enters the room. 

He gets a grumpy groan from under the covers as a response and chuckles as he sits down on the edge of the bed. He rests his own mug down on the nightstand and reaches out to brush his fingertips across Jensen’s wakening cheek. 

“I brought you coffee,” Misha whispers and grins when that gets one of Jensen’s eyes to open, peering at him over the edge of the covers. 

“I love coffee,” Jensen mumbles, eyeing the mug in Misha’s hands. 

“I know,” Misha laughs. 

Jensen reaches for the mug with an open palm, but Misha pulls it away from him and Jensen looks up at him with a child-like pout. 

“Hey,” he whines. 

“You need to get up,” Misha states, holding the coffee trapped in his palms. 

“You’re mean,” Jensen says, narrowing his eyes. 

“Would someone as mean as me make you coffee AND get you off in the shower?” Misha asks. 

Jensen’s eyebrows crinkle as he processes Misha’s words, and a soft blush heats up his face, “No,” he murmurs. 

Jensen sits up then so he’s eye level with Misha and reaches for the coffee again. This time Misha gives it to him. Jensen takes it and takes a large gulp, sighing in satisfaction as the warm liquid hits his mouth. 

“Thank you though, really,” Jensen says, looking utterly adorable with his hair sticking up on one side, a lopsided smile on his face. Misha can’t help but lean down and press a gentle kiss against his mouth. 

“Of course, I’m happy I’m here,” Misha says. And he really is. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d woken up with Jensen pressed against him, snoring softly, mouth against his skin. They talk everyday, but he’d missed this. 

“Me too,” Jensen says. 

He takes another generous sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes fixed on Misha’s and it’s so intense of a look that it almost unsettles him in a way, not bad, but enough that Misha gets butterflies floating around in his tummy. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I just...,” Jensen glances down at the liquid in his cup and shrugs.

“Tell me.”

“I wish you could be here more often,” Jensen says, and it’s barely above a whisper. 

“Hey,” Misha says, soft, and reaches out to tilt Jensen’s chin back up with the pad of his thumb, making sure their eyes are meeting when he says, “I know sometimes our schedules don’t allow it to work, but all you have to do is ask.”

Jensen smiles but it’s half-hearted and it makes Misha’s heart hurt a little to see it. 

“I don’t wanna take you away from Vicki and the kids, ya know? I get how it is, and I know you get more time than Jared and I do, but it’s still hard.”

“You know,” Misha says, closing the short distance between them and tangles his fingers with Jensen’s free hand where it rests on the covers, “I’ve been thinking about this actually.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Vicki and I talked about it. We were thinking that, if it’s okay with you, two nights a week you can have me all to yourself, especially with filming it works well and she knows that as much as I love being at home with her and the kids that I  _ do _ need to see you at least once a week. Hazards of being in love with more than one person right?” 

Jensen laughs, and it brightens up the room even more than the early morning sun streaming in from the windows. 

“Did she say that?” Jensen asks.

Misha nods, “She’s always been better at this than me.”

“God, I love her,” Jensen says, shaking his head and grinning.

“Me too,” Misha says, thinking of Vicki at home right now probably getting the kids ready for school. She’ll text him soon and ask him how the night went, she always does. 

Jensen takes another sip of his coffee, half gone now, and moves legs so he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed a foot away from Misha. 

“So shower?” Jensen asks with a raised eyebrow, peering at Misha over the brim of his mug. 

“I already took one, but I am not going to say no to seeing you naked so,” Misha says with a faux nonchalant shrug that causes Jensen to chortle with laughter and shove at his shoulder. 

“Finish your coffee, I’ll get the water going,” Misha says, leaning in to steal another kiss from Jensen’s mouth and then scoots off the edge of the bed, heading towards the bathroom. 

He’s slipping off Jensen’s sweatpants when Jensen enters the bathroom, completely naked, and slides up behind him pressing a wet kiss to the nape of his neck. 

“Hey,” Jensen whispers.

“Hey.”

Misha turns in Jensen’s arms, hands sliding along his side, down his hips and leans in and kisses him all tongue and full of intent. Jensen kisses back just as eagerly groaning into his mouth, hand slipping beneath the waistband of Misha’s underwear to squeeze his ass. Misha groans, rocking his hips against Jensen’s, pulling him closer in the process and finding Jensen just as hard as he is. 

“Shower?” Misha asks, fumbling with his words because Jensen’s hand is still on his ass, his other hand pulling Misha’s underwear down. 

“Shower,” Jensen agrees.

They’re both naked now, and Misha pulls Jensen as close to him as possible, slowly walking him backwards into the shower. The water is warm, just shy of too hot, but perfect enough to make the air around them steamy. Jensen’s skin quickly becomes wet and warm underneath Misha’s hands as they continue to kiss under the hot spray. Misha pushes him back against the nearest tile wall, grinding his hips against Jensen’s and laughing against his lips when Jensen whimpers into his mouth. Misha wraps his hand around both of their cocks, slips a thigh between Jensen’s legs and starts a slow even pace jacking them off together. Misha watches Jensen’s eyelashes flutter shut, his mouth slowly sliding open into a wide “o” as Misha slides them smoothly together. 

Misha’s mouth finds the notch between Jensen’s neck and collarbone and sucks a mark there, dark and red. The makeup department will get annoyed at Jensen for it in a few hours, but Misha could care less with the way Jensen is shuddering against him, one hand clinging to Misha’s arm, the other on his hip. There’s only a few things Misha loves more than watching Jensen come. The way his hips buck up into Misha’s hands, nonrhythmic and desperate for release, how he bites his plump bottom lip between his teeth, and his whole body starts trembling a few seconds before he actually comes. 

Misha’s close too, breath coming out in pants, hips stuttering against Jensen’s, the pace of his fist increasing the closer he gets. 

He leans in, breathless, right against the curve of Jensen’s ear, and says, “Come for me,” and that’s it. Jensen comes at his words into Misha’s fist, head slumped against Misha shoulder, mouth on his collarbone, panting against it as he murmurs Misha’s name over and over again. Misha comes a few seconds after him, lips pressed to Jensen’s cheek, quiet whimpers leaving his mouth. He kisses him afterwards, when Jensen is soft and pliant, relaxed beneath his hands and completely open to whatever Misha’s mouth and hands want. 

Misha gets shampoo in his hands a few minutes later, lathers it up into Jensen’s hair and massages his head while he gets him clean, loving the way Jensen leans back against his hands, head tipped back, mouth open, his back pressed against Misha’s chest. 

“Feel good?” Misha asks, finally speaking after what seems like ages. 

“Fucking perfect,” Jensen mutters, reaching behind himself blindly to find Misha’s hand where it’s resting on Jensen’s shoulder, and squeezes. 

Misha lets Jensen finish the rest of his shower himself, but indulges in the ability to watch him, to watch the way the water slides down his skin and wishing they had more time and he could actually fuck him before it’s time for them to leave to go to set. But not today, maybe tomorrow morning. Misha’s already decided that he’s staying tonight. He needs one more night to wrap himself up in Jensen, fuck him after a long day when they’re both tired and needy and it ends up more like lazy love making instead. He just needs more of Jensen. 

They dry off side by side, and Misha finds himself blushing when Jensen slides his hand along Misha’s forearm and leans in to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“Thanks Mish,” Jensen whispers, and there’s that look of love sparking behind Jensen’s eyes, completely directed at Misha, that makes him forget how to breathe. 

“Anytime,” Misha answers, because it’s true. If Jensen asked, he’d be here whenever he needed him to. 

They get ready slowly, both not wanting the relaxing morning to end, knowing a long day of filming awaits them. And if they’re five minutes late leaving Jensen’s condo, still kissing as they get out the door, hands fumbling on each other’s hips against newly tucked in shirts, well, sometimes that’s just how mornings go.


End file.
